


(anon-)drabble / ficlet collection

by Aridette



Category: Assassin's Creed, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aridette/pseuds/Aridette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>collections of drabbles I have posted on tumblr before</p><p>They are all pretty much 500 letters or 100 words spot- on. If you'd like me to write one for you, feel free to comment here or send me a message on <a href="http://the-lady-aridette.tumblr.com/ask">tumblr</a> with details on where I can find you :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Destiel 1

“Cas, how can you be drunk after just one beer?”, Dean was getting annoyed.  
Had he known of the angel's low tolerance he'd never have introduced him to drinking. 

“I'm not drunk.”, but his slurred voice gave him away. 

“Yeh, tell yourself that.”, he smirked, emptying his own bottle.  
Momentarily not having his eyes on Cas, Dean was surprised when the other suddenly got up and climbed in his lap instead. 

“Let me prove it, Dean.”  
Next he knew he had angel lips pressed against his. 

Yeh, totally sober.

 

\- 24/12/2013


	2. Destiel 2

Sam shot a glance up from his book.  
The three of them had decided to head out for a late breakfast together. 

But something seemed off about Dean and Cas today.  
He couldn't pinpoint what made the other two seem weird. 

Lately they always sat on one side of the table, Sam on the other, accompanied by either his laptop or books.  
So he never questioned their decision to share the other side. 

Little did he know of the things that went on under the table.  
And if he ever found out, he'd wish he hadn't. 

\- 24/12/2013


	3. Destiel 3

Cas' newly found fondness for beds knows no boundaries. 

Sleep is good – especially dreamless nights.  
The soft mattress against his back – perfect.  
The smooth fabric of the pillow caressing his face. 

It reminds him of heaven in ways he didn't expect.  
But the best part – his blanket. 

While the brothers were out one day, Cas had exchanged his blanket for Dean's.  
And if the hunter ever noticed he didn't say a thing.  
Either way Castiel enjoyed his blanket. 

You could say they, too, shared a more profound bond.

\- 25/12/2013


	4. Morrigays 1

Their stolen moments in between made it all worthwhile. 

Kisses exchanged at night or when none of the crewmen paid them any attention. Hands slipping beneath layers of fabric for a soft touch from calloused hands while lips met; tentatively at first but soon growing hungrier, always keen on making these moments the best they could be. Soft sighs drowned out by the whisper of the sea just a few feet away. 

And in it's simplicity it was perfect - everything they wanted and everything they needed.

\- 04/05/2015


	5. DesLucy 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheiloproclitic - Being attracted to someone’s lips.

Desmond blinks his eyes open. 

His sight is still a little blurry before a pair of pouty, red lips swims into focus. Desmond can‘t help following their every twitch and curl as Lucy speaks in a hushed voice.  
Her hair is drawn back as always, as if she meant for her lips to be the center of attention.

He should probably concentrate on what she‘s saying.  Instead he imagines what those lips would feel like and how they would follow him into his dreams later that night.

„Desmond, are you listening at all?  
 „Uhum“ is all he manages to say.

\- 02/07/2015


	6. HayZiio 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.

Every time they part ways, all that remains is memories. He tries to squash them, forget about them as soon as they cross his mind. But that‘s the thing, isn‘t it. The more you try, the more you think about it.

The stolen moments, looks shared between them that no other could read. Looks that speak of more than he ever hoped to find. The longer they are apart though, the more he is convinced he imagined it all.

Only when she calls for him and that spark is still there does he dare to believe it to be true.

\- 02/07/2015


	7. ConHayth 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gymnophoria - The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.

Connor doesn‘t like that Haytham waits nearby while he talks to an Assassin agent. He knows the Templar is too far away to hear what they say, but he practically feels his father watch him.

And not just watch him in a casual way, but analyse every twitch of muscle as though no clothes obscure his gaze. Connor rolls his shoulders in unease. 

Haytham has been doing it since they set off on this mission. Only now is it becoming a bother though, as others notice him blush at the thought of how naked he feels under his father‘s scrutiny.

\- 02/07/2015


	8. ConHayth 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt fill for [guineapigprincess](http://guineapigprincess.tumblr.com)  
> see the prompt list [over here](http://the-lady-aridette.tumblr.com/post/123799437011/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)

It was a cold winter day. The last night had brought new snow, adding to the already considerable pile. In a way it reminded Connor of the first time he had met his father. Not in Boston, but years later in the frontier. Back then they had had to fight their way through the snow as well.

Exhausting as it was to travel like this, he followed the older Templar. Unlike the first time they had worked together, his age now started to show. Stomping through the snow because they had left their exhausted horses behind at the inn two days ago, Connor noticed how Haytham grew more tired. Of course he would never so much as say a word about it, but Connor knew the signs, had grown up seeing the elders in his village suffer from the icy cold in more than one way. His father would be no different.

If not for his pride, maybe he would take Connor up on the offer of taking a break and waiting while he went hunting for their lunch. But as things were he would not rest before either of them was utterly exhausted or literally freezing his hands and feet off.  
  
He had to give it to the Templar. When he had set his mind on something, nothing could stop him.

Just… Maybe Connor could.

A plan started to form in his head as he followed his father.  
  
——–  
  
It had gone suspiciously quiet behind him. Not that Connor ever spoke much, but since mid-morning he had been asking if they should take a break, or whether he should lead the way so Haytham could follow in his footsteps. A touching display of concern, but that was all it was to the Templar Grandmaster.  
  
But now they had walked for at least two miles without a comment from his son.

He could still hear his footsteps, so he was rather sure he had not lost Connor - unlikely as that was. Haytham had not even been able to lose the Assassin on the more than one occasion that he had tried to in the past.

When he glanced over his shoulder he found Connor absentmindedly playing with his hands as he would sometimes do when he was nervous. Was the boy getting cold that quickly? It almost couldn’t be.

It took him a second glance before he noticed that Connor was actually trying to stealthily form a snowball. He stopped and turned around to face his son.  
  
“Connor.”

His stern voice made the Assassin look up. He tried to give an innocent impression, but the spark in his eyes betrayed his intentions.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-” was all he got out before the snowball hit him in the face, knocking his hat off his head. “Goddammit!”

If Connor thought he could get away with this, he was wrong. This called for revenge.


	9. Shaytham 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt fill for [muigiel](http://muigiel.tumblr.com)  
> see the prompt list [over here](http://the-lady-aridette.tumblr.com/post/123799437011/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)

It is raining cats and dogs when Haytham finally reaches Fort Arsenal. He is not going to stay for very long, but having a dry and somewhat warm place for the night is a welcome change from the day’s travels. The grounds are fairly well kept as always, but it is quiet. Quieter than usual for this place. If not for the Morrigan’s colours visible from up by the stables, he would think none of the other Templars were there at all despite the fact that he had sent word of his arrival before he set out from Boston.

He needs to speak to his men before he is on his way again and where better to meet than here?

It is much too late to still get much done today though. Drained as he is he thinks it for the best.

A quick sprint from the stables to the nearest entrance and he finally closes the door behind him, leaving the wet coldness outside. It is just as quiet inside as it had seemed outside, but a fire is burning in the hearth. Coats are spread in front of it.   
Presumably a few of his men got caught in the rain on their way to the Fort and had already retired for the night.

Just as he is heading up the stairs to the bedroom he claimed for himself the clock by the open kitchen door strikes two. Perhaps it is a little later at night than Haytham had previously thought.

He creeps along the hallway, making sure to step around any creaking floorboards he knows of. The door to his room opens quietly.

Haytham is greeted by a wave of pleasantly warm air. His cloak and coat, both completely soaked and heavy, come off with practiced ease before he notices a rustling sound.

If he was surprised to find the Fort this quiet and a fire stoked in his room, there are no words for the surprise of finding Shay sitting up in his bed, smiling at him sleepily.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” he asks, eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Actually, there is.” Shay begins, “The roof in the other wing has a leak. Bit too wet for my taste.”

“Huh.” Haytham comments and continues to stow away his weapons for the time being. “That explains why you’re in my bed, but not why you’re naked.” he adds after a short silence.

When Shay doesn’t answer immediately, he looks over to the other man. “Well?” he prompts.  
Shay gives a quiet smile in return. “I thought we might make the best of the situation?”  
Their eyes meet in the semi-darkness of the room and that’s when Haytham gets it.

The leaky roof might have been what made him leave his own bed for the night, but their mutual adventures on several other occasions were surely the reason for choosing to wait for Haytham in the manner he had.

“First let me get out of these.” Haytham gestures down his body where his wet clothes still cling to him.

“Need a hand with that?”

Before Haytham can come up with a proper response, Shay slips out from under the covers and meets him in the middle of the room. He catches his lips in a needy kiss.  
  
“I thought you were going to help me, not make me keep this on even longer?” Haytham asks in a mock-stern voice.

“Sorry about that, Sir. I couldn’t resist.”


	10. ConHayth 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: ConHayth in a hat shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from this [prompt list](http://the-lady-aridette.tumblr.com/post/138551126876/what-would-your-otp-do-on-a-date)

When Haytham agreed to meeting Connor on his day off he had certainly not expected his son to have a hidden agenda.  
  
Their conversation over a nice cup of tea could hardly be considered out of the ordinary. Not anymore. But Haytham remembered their early days vividly. Days in which a shy yet angry young man had been brooding over his tea while quietly staring at his father. After they had overcome the initial strangeness of their situation, they had somehow come to a mutual understanding that made being around each other much more pleasant.  
  
Now, years later, their relationship was on the verge of changing once more. Both were aware of the moral grey area they were treading in, yet neither thought to broach the topic just yet. And most certainly not in public.  
  
Haytham coughed slightly and shook the memories from his mind. Now was not the time. But when was it ever?  
He noticed Connor eying him, the hint of a blush on his cheeks. The dreamy smile that had adorned his lips quickly disappeared however when he turned to face his son. It was replaced by a mask of nonchalance.  
“You seem distracted, father.” Connor said. “Is everything alright?”  
  
“I was only remembering something.”  
  
“Something good, I hope.” The smile was back on his face and once more gone in the blink of an eye. Clearly Connor was aware of just the occasion Haytham had remembered.  
  
Haytham could not suppress the flood of memories that particular tone brought on. What had happened the last time they had met was not to repeat itself _again_ , or so he told himself. He coughed once more and looked away.  
  
“So, how comes you wanted to see me?” he asked in an attempt to steer their conversation towards safer grounds.  
  
For a moment Connor remained silent. He sipped at his tea, then finally set the cup down.  
“I discovered something. And I wanted your opinion on it.”  
  
“Oh? Is that so?” Haytham’s interest was piqued although he would never openly admit that. “And what could that possibly be?”  
Teasing Connor usually led to faster results than hoping for the younger man to tell him of his own volition.  
  
“I will show you. But not yet.” Connor said. The spark in his eyes however betrayed his otherwise calm demeanour. Clearly, he had something in mind. Something he would soon share.

A little while later they were exiting their usual teahouse in Soho.  
Without so much as a nod, motioning for his father to follow him, Connor led the way down the street. Haytham easily fell in step with him. He followed him quietly, looking around while feigning disinterest in an attempt to figure out where his son was leading him.  
  
They took another turn.  
Halfway down that almost deserted road Connor slowed his pace. Before Haytham could wonder about the reason, a door was being held open for him. He entered cautiously-  
  
And found himself in a hat shop.  
  
“Connor, what-?”  
It was in that very moment that Haytham understood why Connor had blushed and smiled earlier. In fact, he felt like the tips of his ears were burning, too.  
  
Whyever had he thought his son would just let him forget about _the incident_. The incident and his involuntary reaction when Connor had put on his father’s hat when he had asked him to hold it while he was fixing his tie.  
He had only meant to take the boy to the opera for his birthday.  
Instead they had ended up celebrating the occasion in quite a different manner and location.  
  
He did not get to say much more than those two words of surprise as Connor gently shoved him forward, making him step further into the shop.  
The door fell shut behind them.  
  
A quick glance around the small area that made up the salesroom revealed dozens of different hats in all shapes and sizes, some wearable, others so atrocious he would not be surprised to learn they had never sold a single one of them.  
  
“I thought you might like a new one after we almost ruined the other one.” Connor murmured from where he stood behind his father.  
  
Haytham swallowed hard and closed his eyes to regain some semblance of calm. This did not bode well for his sanity.  
And Connor knew.

“Or perhaps you would prefer to pick one for me instead?” the devil continued in an almost husky voice.  
Haytham’s breath hitched involuntarily at the implications Connor made.  
  
“Both.” he finally said. His voice was softer than usual, a side-effect, he knew all too well, of imagining what they would be doing in a few hours’ time.  
  
An assistant joined them just in that moment. Connor stepped away from him, they exchanged a few words and thus the sweet torture began.


	11. Obikin 1

Obi-Wan had never been a fan of flying.

He was a decent enough pilot, aided by the Force undoubtedly, but generally felt no desire to be airborne.

It was not until Anakin was old enough to officially be allowed to fly though that he began to hate aircrafts.

Not only had Anakin a tendency to go too fast at every given opportunity, but the way he would fondly touch a speeder’s hood sent shivers down his spine.

More than once he had had to avert his eyes when Anakin’s hand had wandered across the controls as though they were lovers.

\- 25/04/2016


	12. Obikin 2

Peaceful. Quiet. The sunbeams peeking through the broad windows caressed the soft features of his beloved.  
Mornings like this made it all worth it in Anakin’s opinion.

Although the person beside him was not the one he had once imagined.  
In his teenage dreams the features had been decidedly feminine.  
The thought made him chuckle.

He leaned over, kissed Obi-Wan’s forehead, waking him in the process.  
“What time is it?” he mumbled.  
“They’re not up yet.” Anakin whispered.  
Obi-Wan was not really interested in the time, only in knowing whether the twins would invade their bed anytime soon.


	13. ConHayth 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scene that might or might not come to pass in the on-going story Coming Home

Boston Underground's foul smell is like a blow to the chest.  
Even now, years later and in the company of his father, the tunnels feel as wrong and unnatural as they used to.  
  
The lantern's warm flicker of light stands in contrast to this assault on his senses.  
He raises it to light a candle. 

The glimmer of light catches in Haytham's eyes.  
Despite knowing better, Connor feels himself drawn in as the flicker accentuates his father's features.  
  
The realization of what he is looking for in his father's eyes is almost worse than the sickening stench of the tunnels.

\- 03/06/2016

 


	14. Kylux 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Almost Getting Caught and Against The Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt fill for [silivrenelya](http://silivrenelya.tumblr.com)  
> see the prompt list [over here](http://aridette.tumblr.com/post/151721432256/100-kinks-nsfw)

There was something to be said about forbidden fruits being sweeter, juicier and altogether superior to anything else.  
Especially when anything else was strictly by First Order regulation.  
And the fruit in question was sex.

General Hux was not a man who indulged.  
And yet he found himself indulging time and time again.

Up against the wall of an empty corridor was perhaps the only way in which they had not had each other yet.  
Until that day.

Ren had assured him that no-one would come their way.  
Regardless, the footfalls of approaching troopers only added to the thrill.


End file.
